Shadowlands
by Taryn Streambattle
Summary: Robin vanishes on his first Alpha mission. While the search for him in vain, Robin has to fight his way through a dead Shadow World if he ever hopes to return home. Rated for descriptions of graphic violence against minors. Inspired by the Shadow Mission game. Eventual crossover with Batman Beyond.
1. Prologue

******Thankfulness: **Shout out to betas- grannyhitsuzen, and WhyMustIWrite. She didn't know the fandom but jumped in anyway. What a trooper. Now hopefully she'll watch the show.

Also, two pieces of art have been done by yesterdaysluminary on Tumblr. She did the current cover and another piece for the Batman Beyond Segment. Thanks, mate!

**Setting/Spoilers: **Takes place a few weeks before Season II officially begins. Minor Season II spoilers scattered throughout but hopefully nothing earth-shattering. Timeskip deaths have been revealed and absence of several Season I characters is probably going to be noticed by more astute readers.

**Ships:** This story is not romantic in nature, however, canon YJ ships have been used whether I ship them or not. This means current Angelfish and RedCat (We seriously need a better name for Roy/Jade) and past Supermartian, Chalant, DickBabs. The only non-canon pairing that appears is Jason Todd/Donna Troy.

**Author's Note:** Written for the 2012 Young Justice Big Bang.

{I love the Animorphs books waay too much. Anything in these brackets signifies telepathic communication.}

* * *

**BLÜDHAVEN, 16:16**

**NOVEMBER 13, 2013**

They were only about two hundred feet away from the warehouse when it exploded.

La'gaan threw his arms up to shield from the debris, the heat, then he froze in horror.

Neptune's Beard. No one could survive that. Not even a Bat.

Not even Rob-

Donna surged past him, a roar rumbling from her body.

It snapped La'gaan out of his trance. Entering puffer mode, he dashed towards the rubble. Grabbing any debris that came to his hands, he threw it behind him

Please please please let him be alright don't be dead please please let him li-

A pale white hand.

A moan.

"Troia, he's over here!" She darted over to join him and together they tore up the shattered stone. One slab took the both of them to lift, and once they had, La'gaan nearly dropped it in shock.

The sight of Robin, usually so exuberant and full of life, lying pale and unmoving amidst the rubble was like being shot again. Blood leaked everywhere. Robin was a mass of bruises and smashed bone, his face unrecognizable as a human's save for his agonized dark brown eyes. He struggled just to breath, the rhythm of his breath more sounding more like a car that wouldn't start than a living thing.

Troia turned away and began a lengthy monologue in Ancient Greek oaths.

Robin's lips moved. Slow. Slurred. "Is she- is she Ok?"

La'gaan forced himself to look Robin in the eye. "Yes. The client isn't dead."

The Boy Wonder smiled, just as if they'd pulled off another successful prank. "Then in the end, we won."

His familiar smile brought no comfort to La'gaan. He couldn't stop staring at Robin's missing teeth.

"Troia to Team." Troia's fist slammed down on the slab they had moved. It shattered into rubble. "My communicator isn't working. Call for back up, La'gaan"

"I did! It's not going to get here for another ten minutes!"

"Then tell them to hurry!" She knelt by Robin and began to unclasp his body armour. "Clear off the rest of the debris. I think- maybe I can- Robin, don't-"

Robin coughed. Crimson splattered onto La'gaan, onto Donna's pale skin. His eye closed for a moment before opening to stare at the sky. Tearing his left hand free of the debris, he grasped at the air. "My na-" Robin whispered after a moment, "My name- it's-"

"Don't," Donna snapped back.

Troia finished unclasping Robin's smashed body armour and pried it off. La'gaan's stomach turned as he stared at his friend's ruined body.

Donna's mouth pressed into a thin line. The determination drained from her face. Slowly, she took Robin's good hand, and bowed her head.

"No, don't give up!" La'gaan snarled at her, "He'll be fine- just- when the others get here- they can- he's not dead yet-"

"La'gaan. It's OK. I got what I deserved."

"No one deserves this," Donna said, "Especially not you."

"Robin. Listen to me. You're going to live, got it?" La'gaan said, grabbing his friend's shoulders, "Promise me! Promise me you're going to live!"

But one look into Robin's eyes told La'gaan that Robin had given up. His eyes, though dull with pain, were serene. The strength, the laughter, the love of life that defined him- it was gone. Whatever had happened in that warehouse- it had shattered Robin emotionally. He was _giving up. _He'd already accepted that he was going to die. And Robin- Robin never gave up.

Robin was already dead. This person bereft of hope- he wasn't Robin. He was Robin's ghost.

La'gaan shook his head, a moan escaping his throat as he tried to beg- something- anything _just don't-_

"Jason," Robin said. This time, Donna leaned closer and did nothing to silence him. "Jason Wayne."

And Jason died with a smile.


	2. Chapter 1

After this chapter, updates will be weekly. Quick note- on Tumblr, I can use HTML brackets for telepathy. But FFN is mean and won't let me use said brackets. I am a sad little Animorphs fan.

* * *

**MOUNT JUSTICE, 21:46  
DECEMBER 07, 2015**

"Over the past two weeks, various artifacts have been disappearing from museums. Hawkman confirms that they are of Thanagarian origin, and has indicated that the items stolen are part of a bigger piece: the Asbsorbacron. "

"Seriously, who _names_ these things?"

Ignoring Wonder Girl's interruption, Nightwing continued. "The device allows the user to access the memories of the others who have touched it before. If it is reassembled, then the thief will be able to telepathically control Thanagarian tech- which makes up a good part of the League's defense systems. Only one piece has yet to be stolen- a charm in the Metropolitain Museum of Art. Your mission is to protect the charm and apprehend the thief.

"For this mission, we have two squads. Alpha Team- Superboy, Robin, and Wonder Girl- will patrol the main wing of the Museum where the charm is on display. Beta squad, consisting of Beast Boy, Lagoon Boy, and Blue Beetle, will guard the exits here, here, and here."

Jaime grinned. After the excitement of a few days ago, it would be nice to have a quiet mission as his official induction into the Team.

**METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART, 23:16  
DECEMBER 07, 2015**

{Stealth plan failed. Time for Plan B. Attack!} Superboy commanded as he leapt from his hiding place.

Klarion dodged Conner's punch with little effort. A nearby statue of Zeus wasn't so lucky.

{Hey, watch the artifacts!} Wonder Girl cried. {My Mom's going to hold me personally responsible for everything that gets smashed!}

"Naughty Naughty!" Klarion taunted, wagging his finger at the Kryptonian, "And you heroes are supposed to _avoid_ collateral damage! As much as I'd love to stay and play with you kiddies, Uncle Klarion has to go now!"

The Witch-boy waved his hand to create a portal, but didn't get to use it. Entering puffer mode, La'gaan dashed at him. Klarion dodged the punch, but before he could retaliate, a lasso lashed around his wrist. "I don't think so!" Wonder Girl cried as she hoisted the Lord of Chaos up like a ragdoll. The Asbsorbacron fell from his hands and the portal deconstructed.

Klarion burned through Wonder Girl's rope and landed on top of another statue. "That _hurt! _Alright, I don't care what L-1 says, you're all-"

Three impact shuriken slammed into the statue. Klarion shouted as the explosions disintegrated his perch. Transforming into a column of flame, he teleported to one of the balconies.

"_Another_ Boy Blunder," Klarion hissed as he identified Robin crouching by the main entrance, "What, didn't you learn after what happened to the _last_ one?"

"Give it up, Klarion!" Beast Boy shouted as he shifted into his hero form, "There's six of us and only one of you!"

"Why, indeed there are! What do you think, Teekl? Should I just give up?" The cat meowed and jumped into her master's arms. "The most intelligent thing that's been said all day!" He grinned at Superboy. "She says I should even the odds." A crackling ball of lightning began to form in Klarion's spare hand.

They scattered, each person diving in a different direction.

Too late.

A cone of white energy flew from the Witch-boy's hand and engulfed the Boy Wonder. Light filled the museum, so bright that they had to close their eyes-

And then the light faded. Robin was gone.

"You know," Klarion sighed as he checked his smoking hand for ashes, "They just don't make Boy Wonders like they used to."


	3. Chapter 2

**BATCAVE, 23:56**

**DECEMBER 07, 2015**

"_They just don't make Boy Wonders like they used to."_

Rewind. Play. Slower.

The camera in Robin's mask had caught a video of the museum mission. However, the feed had been lost when he vanished.

The situation didn't feel right to Batman. Something- and he couldn't place it, but it was _there-_ was wrong.

Again, the fight played across the screen. Batman leaned in close, squinting, hoping that there was something- anything he'd missed-

No.

Again, it ended in blinding light and blackness.

He rested his head in his hands.

This couldn't be happening.

Light footsteps echoed on the metal staircase.

Nightwing.

Bruce felt Dick's eyes bore into the back of his head.

He ignored them.

Enhance. Rewind. Replay.

No, too pixilated. Zoom out.

Abruptly Nightwing crossed the remaining distance in a bound and pressed the monitor's power button. Klarion's Cheshire smile blinked off the screen. "It's late, B. You need your sleep."

Nightwing turned away.

Batman spent a moment analyzing his body language. Dragging, sluggish, tired and defeated.

He had looked like that when Jason died.

Feeling a sudden urge to comfort his ward, Bruce stood and placed a hand on Nightwing's shoulder.

A couple moments passed. Was he doing it right? Maybe he should have hugged Nightwing instead? Usually, a hug was the best approach with Dick. But the young adult's lack of response was highly atypical and Bruce couldn't tell what he was thinking.

The dilemma was solved for him when Dick shrugged him off. "Get some rest, B," he repeated, "Tomorrow, we'll have to contact the Drakes."

Even Bruce could tell that Dick didn't want to call Tim's parents and tell them their son was dead. Nobody _ever_ wanted that job. "I'll handle that," he said.

Surprised, Dick paused for a moment. "Thank you," he said after a moment. "I'm going to get some rest. You should too."

Bruce watched him go.

But he had no intention of resting that night.

Turning the monitor back on, he settled into his Bat-throne. (Where Jason had gotten the ridiculous name, he would never know.)

Jason.

Batman leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands.

He'd failed Jason. And now...

None of the others would be surprised when they found out.

_Taking on another Robin-_

_So soon-_

_Too soon, if you ask me-_

_Maybe Bats has lost it-_

_Bruce, this has to stop-_

Batman knew the League had thought otherwise, but Timothy had not replaced Jason. No one could ever replace Jason. But Tim had been Robin. He had served as one of Batman's squires- and there wasn't even a body left to return to his family. Batman needed to at least provide that to the Drakes.

The Drakes. They would never have a chance to spend time with their son again. His eyes narrowed at the mere though of the people who called themselves Tim's parents. They had wasted Tim's life traveling around the world, leaving him alone with strangers who only cared about their next paycheck. They had never gotten to know Timothy, and it was their loss.

He rubbed his temples and focused. Disintegrators. Batman had worked with disintegrators before. And even the most efficient ones left a small pile of ashes. He needed to retrieve them- the sooner the better.

Batman owed Tim far more than a proper burial.

Standing, he reached to pull the cowl back over his face.

But it was the best he could do for now.


	4. Chapter 3

**DECEMBER 08, 00:02**

**BLUDHAVEN**

"Take it back! Take it back! I don't want any-"

Two perfectly aligned escrima sticks took him down. Nightwing spun on a dime and sprinted after the one that got away.

The burglar was terrified. He stumbled over obstacles that weren't there and tripped over his own feet.

But it wasn't enough.

Nightwing caught up to him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Nightwing was relentless. It was but half a moment's work to beat the would-be burglar into a bloody pulp before hanging him from the side of the bridge. The would-be burglar whimpered, unable to cry for help with his shattered jaw.

For a moment, Nightwing paused as he looked at his handiwork. Then he let out a slow breath. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment.

He wasn't talking to the burglar.

**DECEMBER 08, 00:16**

**METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART, 01:23**

The cops were already present.

Sneaking past them would be child's play. Examining the crime scene would not. There were at least four officers present and the crime scene would be contaminated.

He checked the cameras before going in and felt a surge of pride when he saw they had been expertly disabled, looped, and booby-trapped.

_Nicely done, Robin._

Out of habit, he collected the disc planted on the camera, a device Tim had invented. It would loop his chosen footage at the security desk while storing the real footage collected by the security camera.

Now, to get the cops out of the way. Climbing in one of the windows, he slipped along the balcony and down the hall to the Jewel of Tarsus.

Although roiling with impatience, he forced himself to take his time as he set up a tripwire and planted an explosive shuriken on the glass case. Dashing back out to the balcony, he fired his grapnel gun and hung on top of one of the gargoyles.

The shuriken detonated.

Most of the cops immediately dashed to the elevators. As soon as the doors closed, Batman took down the remaining patrol man.

He had about ten minutes.

Reaching into his utility belt, he retrieved a scanner configured to search for any sign of organic matter.

Six results.

One of Beast Boy's feathers.

Oak pollen.

A couple hairs from Wonder Girl's head.

A scale from Lagoon Boy.

Some decayed leaf.

And blood from Klarion's familiar Teekl.

His eyes narrowed.

Lack of DNA from Superboy, Klarion, and Beetle was unsurprising.

But why was there nothing from Robin?

He configured the scan to search only for Timothy's DNA and tried again.

Still nothing.

Dark blue eyes narrowed behind the cowl.

Something wasn't right. A small voice, whispering nonstop in the back of Bruce's head:

"_Where's the evidence?_"

This didn't make any sense. If there was a death, there was always evidence.

Jason- he'd left a body.

Speedy- he'd left an arm.

Tula- a few organs and a left foot

Ted Kord- ashes

Timothy- nothing.

Where was the evidence?

Where was the evidence?

_Where was the evidence?_

He heard sirens. More cops. Taking a deep breath, Batman collected his thoughts.

The scene needed further examining. But he was out of options, out of time, and out of patience.

Thinking fast, he pulled out a batarang and pried up the floor tile that Robin had been standing on when he vanished. It may be contaminated with Klarion's magical energy and it was his only lead.

Firing his grapnel gun, Batman disappeared into the night.

**DECEMBER 08 2015**

**SANDSMARK RESIDENCE, 05:48**

"How is she?"

Helena Sandsmark looked into the rim of her cup. "Devastated. She's convinced that it's her fault."

Diana stood. "Let me see her."

"I don't know if she'll want to, Diana. She feels like she failed you."

"Never. She has much to learn, but she performs admirably. I am proud of her. Please. Let me talk to her."

Professor Sandsmark sighed. "Her room is down that hall on the right. You'll know which one."

The door was adorned with posters of the Justice League and fictional heroes Wonder Woman didn't recognize.

She knocked softly on the door. "Cassie? May I come in?"

"No. Go away."

"I'm going to wait here until you let me in."

There was a long pause.

"Come in."

Diana opened the door. The room was messy, which was nothing unusual for Cassie. At first glance, everything looked normal. Diana knew better. Items had been haphazardly thrown about and smashed, dresser drawers has been upended on the ground and many of the contents rent in two.

In the middle of the carnage, her protégée lay facing away from the door on a popped bean bag.

She sat up when Diana came in. No tears adorned her cheeks, but the agony in her eyes said enough. Cassie expected judgment, condemnation, or anger. None of which Diana had come to provide.

"If you need to talk, I will listen," Diana said after a moment, sitting next to Cassie.

Three seconds passed.

Cassie looked at Wonder Woman, as if asking _is this ok _before she began to speak. She was slow at first, glancing over at Wonder Woman in an attempt to gauge her responses. "I felt so- so helpless. He was three feet away from me, and yet I- I couldn't - It all happened so fast- I mean, it's like, I _have_ these powers, but what good are they if I can't _use_ them? If I can't _help _anyone?"

Her face twisted. "I couldn't help him. I couldn't _save_ him."

She smashed her fist down, creating a small crater in the floor. "I was _weak._ I hesitated. I couldn't do _anything_ but watch as he just- just-"

Cassie gasped, forcing her emotions back. Diana hovered. For one moment, she was unsure what to do. Then, following Barry's advice, she pulled Cassie into a hug and rocked her slowly.

"It wasn't your fault Cassandra. You couldn't have saved him."

"But I should have."

"Then how?"

"I- I could have grabbed him- tackled Klarion-" she trailed off, biting her lip uncertainly.

"Cassandra. Don't blame yourself. Robin's death was not your fault."

"You're- you're not mad?"

"No, Cassandra. You performed admirably."

Cassie didn't look convinced. "But- then what happened to Troia? When the other Robin died…" she trailed off and looked to the other side of the room.

"When the other Robin died, Troia was devastated. Cassie, you need to realize that Donna and Robin were close. They had joined the Team around the same time and they were the first "freshmen."

"I _hate_ it when Nightwing calls us Freshmen," Cassie muttered, "I'd rather be called a sidekick. I _am_ a sidekick." Diana chuckled. Cassie smiled sheepishly. "But I don't understand why Donna left," she added quickly. "So her Robin died- but why would she want to stop being a hero? He was her best friend. Wouldn't she want to honor his name?"

"It is a lot more complicated than that." Diana paused, trying to sort her personal opinions from the facts.

Cassie seemed to catch on. Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, my gosh. Are you saying they were- you know- _together?_"

"I don't pretend to know what Robin felt for her. All I know is that when he died, something in her changed. I had my suspicions, of course-"

"That's so sad! What do you mean, 'changed?'?"

"You must understand, Cassie. We Amazons are warriors, but we follow a strict code that dictates how and when to use our skills in battle. This Code was laid down by the jointed powers of Ares, Athena and Aphrodite. It mandates that our powers are to be used only for love."

"_Love?_" Cassie asked, somewhat disgusted. "So you became a superhero because you were in love with Steve Trevor?"

Diana's glare was hard. "No. Love is _not_ just romantic warm fuzzy feelings. Those are desires, and they aren't always pure. Love is pure, because it is a choice, a covenant- a _promise._ It is a promise to serve and protect someone or something to the best of your ability. It is about putting their needs before your own, whether it be the other Amazons, our home, the world, your family- or one special person. Love is the most powerful force in the universe because it is the only emotion based directly on choice. And it is that power to choose which fuels our abilities.

"I chose to become a hero because people were dying, and I knew I could help. I chose to protect the innocent. When I say I fight for love, I fight for the humanity. Despite their flaws, despite their prides and prejudice, humans are worth protecting.

"Cassie, when an Amazon loves a mortal, they put themselves at risk. Love has great potential, to heal and to harm. She chose to love him. When he died, she was hurt so badly she was afraid to love again."

Wonder Girl was quiet, digesting all the new information. Diana put her hand on Cassie's shoulder. "If there is one thing you learn from me, let it be this: Love is dangerous. It is powerful, so powerful that it can heal all wounds and devastate all hope. Remember that, Cassie. Remember that someday when you must make your own Choice."

**DECEMBER 08, 2015**

**WAYNE MANOR, 02:40**

"Can't sleep?"

"No. Been laying here all night," Nightwing lied, adjusting his headset. Bab's face was mildly distorted, ut he couldn't tell if it was from his exhaustion or her webcam. "I just- I don't know, Babs."

"How's Bruce taking it?"

"Not sure. He hasn't broken anything yet- as far as I can tell, at least- and he's been down in the Batcave all night. Alfred's probably going to have a fit when he finds out."

"I'm sorry, Dick. I wish I could be there."

He smiled into his headset. "Love you too, Babs."

A pause. "Dick- how do _you_ feel?"

"Fine. I'm fine."

"You're not."

"I'm ok, I promise."

She wanted to say something. He could tell.

"Babs- please. Don't. Not now. I'm fine. I just need to focus on The Team. They need help more than I do. The mission was a success, but we need to find the rest of the Asbsorbacron and steal it back. Even if it's not complete, it's too much tech to allow in enemy hands. And there's the fallout from Tim's… scene. La'gaan, Beast Boy, Wonder Girl, Beetle- they're all practically rookies and they watched him die. They're going to need therapy and Canary's off on some girl thing with Huntress and- the Drakes. Ugh. We need to call them soon. Batman said he'd deal with it, but I don't know what he's thinking and I- I can't-"

"Nightwing. Calm down."

He took a deep breath. "Ok. Yeah. I'm sorry. I just- I'm fine, Babs. I promise."

"Dick, maybe you need a break. Leading the Team-"

"I told you, _I'm fine._"

"You haven't been fine since Jason! Ever since he died, you became all about the mission."

"Because the mission is all that matters!"

There was a moment of silence.

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Babs, that came out wrong."

"Then what _did_ you mean?"

"I-" He closed his mouth and looked away from the screen.

"You don't want to talk about it."

No. No he didn't. Maybe it was something in his face or his body language, maybe she knew him better than he thought. Either way, she seemed to understand

"You need to see Canary. Have a nice night," she said.

"Babs-"

_Click._

Dick swore and tore off the headset. It hit the wall and snapped into three pieces. He sat for a moment, trying to collect himself.

He was fine_._ He didn't need therapy. Why couldn't Babs see that? He was _fine._

It was just the situation that wasn't.

But he, Nightwing, Dick Grayson, was fine.

Really.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE-**

I feel the need to explain my portrayal of Nightwing at the beginning of this chapter. As You Know, Nightwing does his best to be an emotionally detached leader. We also know that he fails miserably in at least the "emotionally detached" part. If you trace the decisions that he makes in _Invasion,_ nearly all of them have roots in his emotional reactions to events. I know I have at least one reader who hasn't seen the show, so I won't go into the canon evidence- *Arsenal and the airlock, Mt Justice's 'scene', KF's 'scene' to name most significant*

Furthermore, we all know that usually Dick and Bruce have a huge falling out, Dick storms off like a Drama Queen, gets all rebellious, and Tada! Nightwing is born. Obviously, it didn't happen in Young Justice. But Dick has a temper- admittedly, compared to Jason's it's pretty pathetic, but a temper is a temper no matter what universe.

In the comics, there is a case where Nightwing kills the Joker. This wasn't an AU or a dream or another wacky mind control thing. Nightwing. Killed. The. Joker. Because he thought the Joker killed Tim.

In YJ, Dick is far more in control than he usually is. But everyone has a breaking point. Tim's death has always been Nightwing's. *_Again, I point to the incident with Arsenal and the Airlock. And the Gamma Squad incident. And the "Just don't die OK" remark._

So, the beginning of the chapter tries to show his stress and pent up emotions. The apology he gave was to Tim, not the burglar. Because the way Nightwing is acting now is how Bruce acted when Jason died- only much worse. And Nightwing knows it. That's the only reason he's not as bad as Bruce was when Jason died. Because he's trying to hold back for Tim.


	5. Chapter 4

**DECEMBER 08, 2015**

**BATCAVE, 02:29**

When he got out of the plane, Alfred was waiting.

"If I recall correctly you are supposed to be resting, sir. You've had a long day."

"I'm looking into the circumstances behind Robin's disappearance. Nothing is adding up- and there's a chance-"

Alfred stopped him. "Sir, you need rest."

Only the butler could have seen the conflicting emotions dancing across Bruce's face. "I can't. Robin needs-"

"Yes, sir. He needs you. But not like this. Get some rest. Sharpen your mind."

They waited for a tense moment.

Bruce dropped his eyes. "You're right. I can't help him unless I'm at my full capacity."

**DECEMBER 08, 2015**

**KENT FARM 07:23**

"Are you OK?"

"I think so."

Ma Kent looked over at her grandson. His eyes were distant and cold, just the way they'd been after he'd broken up with M'gann. "You don't look fine."

Conner took a deep breath. "It's not easy. But- I didn't know him well. I'm sad for Dick and I'm sorry that Robin's life was cut so short, but- I didn't know this Robin well. Either of them, really. And when he died- both times- I just don't really feel anything at all. I'm sad for Nightwing- and I know it's my fault he died- but I-"

Ma Kent pointed at Conner's chest. "You have a golden heart, sonny. And ever since you've had to break up with M'gann, you've kept it hidden away. You can't feel if your nerves are severed. Let go, Connor. It wasn't your fault."

"But it _was_! I was leader of that mission. I should have-"

"Should have what?"

He stood in exasperation. "I don't know, OK?" Conner rubbed his forehead. "I led the mission. Robin died on my watch. Nightwing's devastated- and it was hard enough the first time we lost a Robin- but now, it's my fault. I was commanding Alpha. What happens on the mission is my responsibility."

"On your watch, maybe. But there was nothing you could have done to save him."

Conner looked like he wanted to argue, but instead exhaled slowly. "It doesn't matter now. Either way, I'm going to be around for a few days. I don't want to go back to the Cave just yet."

As usual, Ma Kent seemed to understand without needing to know the details. She laid a hand on his shoulder.

**DECEMBER 09**

**WAYNE MANOR, 10:12**

"You're up late."

Bruce didn't look up from his microscope. "Can you contact Zatanna for me, Dick? I can't seem to raise her."

"She's on a training mission with Doctor Fate. You'll be unable to contact her for another week at least." Dick caught the slight quirks in Bruce's body language that indicated anger and was immediately suspicious. "Why the sudden interest in my ex?"

"I visited the museum to recover Tim's ashes. There were none."

It took Nightwing a moment to understand what Bruce was saying. "Wait, wait a minute, Bruce. You mean… that you don't think Tim is dead?"

"There's no evidence to indicate-"

"We have six eyewitness accounts and the security footage! What more do you need?"

"Klarion is sadistic. There's no physical evidence, only the eyewitness account of the Team and the cameras. A simple illusion spell-"

"B, stop. Just- just _stop. _Open your eyes! We all saw it. The museum footage-"

"Is irrelevant. I personally examined the crime scene. There's nothing left."

"Of course not ," Dick snapped, "That's how disintegrators work. Tim was there. Now he isn't."

"There was _nothing left, _Nightwing. No residue, no ashes, no organic material of any kind. Disintegrators _always_ leave a trace, especially if heat's involved. Don't you find that a little strange?"

"Listen to yourself, Bruce! This is _magic._ The rules are different. You weren't there. You didn't _see _it happen."

"Neither did you. I need your support on this, Nightwing. There's not enough evidence-"

"_Stop it, Bruce,_" Nightwing shouted, slamming his hands on the desk. "Tim is dead. Like Jason, like Tula, like Ted. The Team needs you to be a leader. _Act_ like one!"

"But he's _not._ And if he isn't, then we-"

"You haven't been listening to a word I've said!"

Bruce turned back to the microscope. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"B. You're upset. I get it. Losing Jason- it was hard for all of us. It put you into such a dark place that you almost lost yourself. And then this- kid, this- little stalker comes out of nowhere with his head filled with all of our most precious secrets. And he took you out of that dark place. You didn't take him in because he was intelligent, or because he was determined enough to stalk us covertly. You took Tim in because he had nowhere else to go. Because you saw yourself in him. You saw that, like you, he'd been abandoned by his parents. And you wanted to help. But you can't help him now. Let him go, B."

For a moment, Batman stopped working. Dick thought- maybe- he'd gotten through to the Dark Knight.

"Don't contact the Drakes. They don't need to know about this."

He heard Dick swear and storm out of the Cave, slamming the door behind him.

**METROPOLIS**

**DECEMBER 09, 12:12**

"If you want to quit, no one will blame you kid."

Jaime kicked his feet, staring down the long drop to the pavement. Normally, the view from the top of a skyscraper would have consumed his attention.

Not today.

"I don't know, _hermano_. I mean… when I signed on to be a hero… this isn't what I expected. I mean, it was a simple mission, ese! Surveillance at a museum, _madre de dios_. Who gets killed on surveillance missions? But, on the other hand… quit now? I just got started!"

_**The Jaime Reyes is indecisive. Suggested tactic: Kill the distracting human. With evisceration.**_

"Not going to help, ese!"

"You're right," Guy agreed, "quitting isn't going to help anything. But you're still a kid. You deserve to choose what _you_ want."

Jaime sighed. "Can- can I have some time to think about it?"

"Sure thing kid. And if you need to talk, you know who to call. Now, there's this good ice cream parlor nearby-"

Jaime smiled and powered down. It was enough of an answer.

**BATCAVE**

**DECEMBER 09, 14:20**

He tapped the table impatiently. "Pick up… come on… pick up…"

"We're sorry, this number is unavailable."

Dick slammed the phone down. Turning back to the computer, he pulled up the command prompt. "Seriously, this is getting ridiculous Bruce," he shouted, "You _blocked_ their number. And their email. And their fax. What is _wrong_ with you?"

Bruce, as expected, didn't answer.

Scowling, he tried to hack Bruce's code. "Acting like a child isn't going to make Tim any less dead."

That got his attention. "_I'm_ acting like a child?"

Nightwing took his turn to ignore Bruce, activating anti-hack measures.

"Nightwing. Please. If you would just-"

"Just what, Bruce?" he asked, turning in the swivel chair. "Listen? You don't listen to anyone. Why should I listen to you?"

Alfred's voice interrupted the fight before it could start. "That is enough. Look at you, squabbling like children."

Both men glared at each other, both wanting to claim 'he started it' but neither wanting to incur the butler's wrath any further.

"Master Dick, I recommend you take a holiday. Master Bruce, you too."

"No," they growled simultaneously.

Alfred quirked his eyebrow. "Then stop fighting. Master Dick, if Master Bruce believes there is sufficient evidence to indicate that Master Timothy lives, then let him finish his investigation."

Bruce's lips quirked. Nightwing clenched his fist. "Fine. You have one week before I convince Wonder Woman and Canary to knock some sense into you."


	6. Chapter 5

"_Jason," Robin whispered, but this time Donna said nothing to silence him. "Jason Wayne."_

_His last smile was more of a pained grimace than anything else. Even in death, Jason couldn't find peace. _

_Donna leaned over Jason's body, shuddering with grief. "May your name be remembered in the halls of Themyscira for as long as the stars hang in the heavens," she whispered. Kissing his forehead, she laid Jason's hand on his breast. Her quaking body stilled, and her face changed to a hard mask._

_Standing, she turned away and began to levitate. _

"_Hey- where are you going? Troia? Donna?"_

"_Goodbye, La'gaan."_

"La'gaan? La'gaan!"

**MOUNT JUSTICE **

**DECEMBER 09, 15:16 EST**

He started back to reality. Everyone was looking at him.

"Care to give a tactical example of what is to be done in this situation?"

Uh-oh. Zoning out in the middle of Nightwing's class was always an excellent way to tick him off. And considering how much of a bad mood he'd been in lately…

La'gaan squinted at the board.

Ok. Three Team members, all still well-concealed. Outnumbered, and a good place to retreat, lots of tunnels-

Ah, wait! Captives in the background.

"Two Team members should break out and attack, the third sneaks around the villains to free the captives."

"So you _were _paying attention. Moving on,"

La'gaan's temper surged for a moment- _No, I learned all this in the army at Atlantis!-_ before releasing a slow breath.

It wasn't a big deal. He could probably use the review.

"In this scenario, calling for backup is unnecessary because Mal is monitoring all squads and he can send in Delta for assistance. However, one thing we all need to learn to do is call for backup if we find ourselves outmatched. "

"But that doesn't always work," La'gaan found himself saying. "We can't rely on backup from the Team, the League, or anyone else. At the museum, there was strong interference with the communicators. At the warehouse, our location was too isolated. And at Atlantis, all squads were present, yet it didn't save Tu-"

Nightwing gave La'gaan a cold glare. The Atlantean knew when he was dismissed. He'd been lucky to avoid punishment when he'd been caught zoning out. Speaking up when Nightwing was in such a bad mood had been pushing it.

He could have argued. But he didn't want to fight with Nightwing.

"Fine. I'm going."

**BARCELONA, ITALY**

**DECEMBER 09, 13:05**

"But Janet, he usually calls-"

"Whatever Timothy is doing, I am certain he is fine. Our son has good judgment."

"But Janet-"

"Timothy is a smart boy, Jack. I am not worried about him. You shouldn't be, either. Now, what were you saying about the curve of the tympanum?"

His face lit up and he resumed his explanation of architectural history.

Turning back to her paperwork, Janet tuned him out, occasionally throwing in a reaction where appropriate.

For a moment, she indulged in a small smile.

Timothy had finally reached the age where he no longer felt the need to call them incessantly. As soon as he'd figured out how to operate a phone at the tender age of two, he'd called them every day- sometimes more than once- even though Janet ended up blocking his number from her phone. The point of a business trip was to perform business and she could not do that with Timothy distracting her. He was brilliant, but far too sentimental for his own good.

When Timothy had turned eleven, the calls to Jack's phone had irregularly began to decrease. However, Timothy had always called them every Saturday morning, once a week, like clockwork.

Today was the first Saturday he had ever missed.

The phone rang.

She sighed and checked the number.

Bruce Wayne.

A thrill of apprehension shocked through her. How much did Wayne know? Did he even suspect or was he just trying to be social?

Knowing Wayne, she guessed it was the latter. There was no time for a social call now.

Besides, if Wayne had any suspicions, he would have contacted her through his other persona.

She rejected the call and returned to her paperwork.

About a minute later, Jack stopped mid-babble.

"Was that Timbo?"

"No."

"Oh."

Both adults returned to their work. Within a few quick seconds, their wayward son was far from their minds.

**DECEMBER 10, 00:00**

**THE BATCAVE**

After searching, scanning, testing and scouring for nearly sixteen hours, all he had been able to pick up from the tile was a small, nearly imperceptible burst of energy.

He tried to focus, to channel his anger into something productive. But questions swirled in his head, getting in the way, demanding his attention.

Klarion has the ability to kill the entire team, yet remains satisfied after killing one member?

Why?

Where was the evidence?

Why wasn't Nightwing interested in this?

Why hadn't he jumped at the chance to possibly save Robin?

_No._

Focus. Calm.

One thing was clear. He did not have the expertise to deal with Klarion's magic.

Zatanna and Fate were both unavailable for assistance.

To proceed, he needed to know what Klarion had done.

And the tile wasn't telling him anything.

So, back to video evidence then.

He extracted Tim's camera hacker from his utility belt and walked to the computer.

Maybe the security footage would hold something more.

**DECEMBER 09, 2015**

**MOUNT JUSTICE, 21:16 EST**

"Someone's grumpy today. That's the first time you've _ever_ kicked someone out of class."

Nightwing sighed and collapsed into the couch. "Rough week. First we had Tim's 'scene', then Bruce is being a complete and utter moron. He's got this crazy idea that Tim isn't dead. He blocked the Drake's number- and their email, and their fax- from the Cave's communication system. I can't contact them and eventually- they're going to want to check on Tim. I stole B's cell and unblocked the number, but now she won't take my calls."

Barbara pursed her lips. "Did you think to ask him _why_ he believes Tim isn't dead?"

"Babs. Please. I don't-"

"Want to talk about it. I get it. What about Tim's cell?"

"I think he had it on him when he- you know."

"Dick-"

"Part of me- I don't want to call them and tell them that Tim's dead. But B obviously isn't going to, and- I just- they'd want to know. They deserve to know their son is dead."

Barbara sighed. "I'll see what I can do, Dick but no promises."

He closed his eyes. "Let's just… get it over with."


	7. Chapter 6

Life caught up with me. Two chapter update to make up for my absence. Sorry! Oh, and a scene in this chapter was inspired by a suggestion from BrightPath2. Though mostly written/planned, nothing in this story is set in stone, except for the ending. Suggest away!

* * *

**DECEMBER 10, 2015 **

**MOUNT JUSTICE, 01:23**

He awoke with a start, rolling over and falling out of bed.

Gar Logan got to his feet and stared around his room.

In the darkness, the shadows seemed to close in on him.

He shouldn't be scared.

He was too old for this.

He was a _superhero!_ He was way too old to be scared of the dark.

Fear winning the battle in his mind, he scrambled over to the door and flicked the light switch.

The light came on, spluttered, then died.

_No. _He flicked it again.

The room remained dark.

A shadow moved across the wall towards him.

He wrenched the door open with a very un-superherioc eep and ran down the hall. Following the only glow of light in the hallways, he tripped over his tail and stumbled into-

The kitchen?

She was nearly as surprised to see him as he was to see her. M'gann set down the baking sheet and flew towards him. "Gar, what's wrong?"

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "N-nothing."

M'gann knew better. "Nightmares?"

"No. Maybe," he amended, wilting under her glare.

Her face softened and she hugged him. "Gar, it's OK. It's going to be OK. I promise."

Gar wondered, for a moment, why she was up, then

"Looks like I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep," a new voice blearily cut in.

"La'gaan!"

Gar didn't like the way his sister's face lit up when he came in the room. She flew over to him with a wide grin he hadn't seen on her face in a while.

"Hey, guys." La'gaan seemed distant, uninterested in his sister. Maybe it was just a one-sided crush. Yeah. He could live with that.

"Gar and I are making cookies. Want to help?"

Distracted, he shook his head. M'gann's face fell ever so slightly.

Before Gar could start calling La'gaan names in his head, the Atlantean noticed his sister's face.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Angelfish," he said, reaching out and stroking her face, "I just… can't stop thinking about it. Yeah. I can make cookies with you."

"Class today? Please don't hold it against Nightwing. You know how he can be."

"No- it's not that. I- just-

"The mission. At the museum," Gar said.

La'gaan looked over at him. "Yeah," he said at last, "that."

**BATCAVE **

**DECEMBER 10, 01:56**

Rewinding the security footage again, he played it back frame by frame.

It was blurry, pixilated, and in grayscale, but it was his only lead besides the museum tile.

Still nothing. Just Tim's body deconstructing away.

Maybe this was all in his head.

Maybe…

Maybe Tim really was dead.

It was possible that Tim hadn't left any behind DNA. He had always been protective of his identity.

Maybe Nightwing was right.

Once more.

One more time.

Then he'd let the investigation go.

A bright light filled the cave and he spun, pulling his cowl over his head. It was a portal of some kind, and a tall, red-headed young man stepped out.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Batman snarled.

The intruder raised his hands defensively. "I am Jason Blood. I was unaware this was private property. I am investigating the activities of a chaos magician named Klarion. Recently, he cast an extremely powerful spell in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but part of the evidence is missing."

"My student was the target of that spell. I have been unable to locate him since."

Blood stepped forward cautiously. "I sense his energy in the room. Did you- happen to take a tile from-"

Batman nodded at the tile, which rested on a table by the computer.

Immediately, Blood withdrew a monocle out of his pocket. "This was taken from the museum floor?"

"Yes."

"I wondered why a piece was missing," Blood muttered.

_Yes,_ Blood realized as he examined it with his enchanted monocle, _the crux of the spell is definitely here_. "He has been busy. May I further examine-"

"It seems we could be… mutually beneficial," Batman said, stepping toward the occultist. "I'm looking for Klarion because I want my student back. You're looking for Klarion because he's a brat. Same goal. Two different angles."

Blood cocked his head. "I have heard tell of the Batman of Gotham. It will be a pleasure to work beside you."

"I need results. I've examined that tile for hours and found nothing."

"The spell is an Ace level Chaos spell. It is powerful, but the energy output is impractical for destruction. Usually, when a Chaos Lord destroys someone, they transmute the matter into energy that they absorb. The energy field at the museum and the crux on the tile indicate this is not the case."

"So… he is alive."

"Not necessarily. This particular spell is one I am unfamiliar with. Perhaps if I could see what happened-"

"I've already combed over the security footage."

"I need to see what happened."

Batman walked back over to his computer. "There's not much to see."

The interaction played across the screen.

"Can you slow it down?"

Batman obliged.

The cone of light sprouted from Klarion's hand. The Team dodged, but the light hit Robin-

"Stop it here."

Batman looked the screen over. "What is it?"

"There." Blood pointed at the tile at Robin's feet.

"There's nothing there."

"Let me give you a Magi's eyes. _Exspectra._"

His vision changed. And Batman could see.

The security footage was no longer grainy grayscale. It was now sharp color definition.

Batman blinked and shook his head, trying to figure out how the spell would enhance the tape after all his technologies had failed. He saw cracks in the stone architecture, oak pollen floating in the air.

And there, at Robin's feet-

A white spot. It was hard to see against the tile. Maybe it wasn't there. "I- It's just a reflection."

Blood shook his head. "Next frame."

It was larger. Much larger.

Tim was looking down.

Heart pounding, he flicked on.

The next frame only had the top half of Tim's torso. It looked like it was sticking out of the white spot…

_A portal._

Forward again.

This time, Tim was gone and the cone of light had begun to retract back into Klarion's hand.

Three frames for Robin to vanish.

Not disintegrate.

Vanish. Into a portal.

He was alive.

Robin was alive.

No time for anything except action. "That's a portal."

"Yes."

"Then where is he?"

"Only Klarion can tell that."

"Then where can we locate Klarion?"

Blood looked almost ashamed. "I do not know. He has no sanctuary that I am aware of."

"There must be someplace. Where does he keep his spell books, where does Teekl sleep?"

"I don't know. But I know how to find out." Jason Blood extended his monocle. "If we return to a place he's been recently, I can follow his aura trail."

Batman was already moving, activating buttons, manipulating the console. Here was something he could do. Believing Robin to be alive and having evidence that he was were two very different things. "Nightwing," he said, activating a communicator built into the cowl, "I have a lead on the Robin case. I'm not sure when I'll be back."

"B, we talked about this!"

"You're capable of taking care of the Team and the city in my absence."

"That's not the point and you know it. B, please. We need you."

Lost for words, Bruce floundered. He knew what he wanted to say, but not how to say it. He could explain everything to Nightwing, but that would take valuable time that Robin may not have.

"But so does Robin," he said finally, "and I'm not- not going to fail him again."

"B-"

"I trust you, Nightwing. Do not contact me unless you feel it's necessary."

He cut the connection before Nightwing could protest. He turned to Blood. "We'll take the Javelin," he said in a tone that boded no argument.

**DECEMBER 10, 02:04**

**MOUNT JUSTICE**

Nightwing slammed his hands on the table. Sucking in a breath, he calmed his thoughts.

"Bruce, you _idiot._" Deep down, Nightwing knew that he was angry at himself. If he'd trained Tim better- If he'd gone on the mission himself- If he hadn't assigned Jason onto Alpha Squad- If he'd been a little faster- If he'd only

If only.

Tim was dead.

So was Jason.

Kaldur's life was ruined.

Wally and Artemis had left.

Nothing he could do- nothing he could ever do- would change that.

Dick didn't cry. He'd stopped crying a long time ago. He just forced the pain away and focused on something, anything else.

Running from the pain that threatened to engulf him- _You failed your brothers your father abandoned you you failed failedfailed-_ he turned to Barbara.

"Babs. Any luck?"

"No. I can't. Drake Industries has a very advanced code- our computer doesn't even recognize the software. I'm sorry, Nightwing. I did the best I could."

"It's OK, Babs. You did fine."

His eyes fell on his cell phone. Picking it up, he opened his contact list and scrolled to Tim's number.

Crazy. No way Tim could actually- he wasn't really-

Taking a deep breath, Nightwing began the call.

Slow beeping echoed through his eardrums as the line rang.

The call dropped. He exhaled and shoved the phone in his pocket.

Stupid Bruce.

**MOUNT JUSTICE**

**DECEMBER 17, 12:00**

"How's Karen? I haven't seen her around much."

"She's been spending more time at the lab." Mal doesn't mention the tension between them, that Karen has been almost avoiding Mount Justice lately.

"You're lucky, Mal. You've got a great girl."

He looked over at La'gaan and genuinely smiled. "Thanks, La'gaan. I hear you and Miss M have… a thing going."

Unnoticed by either of them, a red light activated on the console.

La'gaan lit up like a Christmas tree at the mention of his Angelfish. "I guess. Somewhat. It's not official yet… I mean, we haven't gone on a date or anything. We haven't even kissed!"

"You should ask her out," Mal said, turning away from the console, "She loves that one restaurant with the gardens."

"I don't know. I mean- I _want_ to ask her out, but- what if she's not serious? What if I'm just a rebound, you know? She's still not over Superboy and- if he asks for her back, she'll go back-"

"Whoa, La'gaan, chill. It's just a date."

"What if I don't live up to her expectations? She'd be my first girlfriend- ever. I don't want to disappoint her."

"It's not that big a deal. Just ask her out when you feel the time is right."

La'gaan took a deep breath. "And… then what?"

"See how it goes. Me and Karen- it was magic. Others, well… you've heard about the Spitfire incident? Wally and Artemis' first big date?"

La'gaan chortled. "Do I ever!"

Mal gave La'gaan a long look and puts it together. "For your sake, I hope Artemis never finds out you were involved."

"It wasn't just me," La'gaan argued.

The room filled with silence.

"_That'll teach them to use my room as a hideaway for their hanky-panky,_" Jason had said.

The point was moot now. Nobody went into Jason's room anymore.

Mal shook his head. "As I was saying, with Wally and Artemis, their first date was a disaster, yet they're still together."

"In our defense, it was kinda their fault."

"Care to convince Artemis of that?"

"… no."

Mal's dark eyes pinned La'gaan down.

Desperate for a change of subject, he indicated the board. "Hey Mal- what do those red lights mean?"

"Communicators," Mal replied, turning back to his work, "Each one monitors an agent in- wait. Wait. This is wrong."

"What?"

"Robin's communicator. It's on."

"On?"

"This isn't right," Mal muttered as he adjusted the holoscreen, "He was disintegrated. We haven't had a signal for over a week now- How could he-" The techie cleared his throat. "Robin? Robin? Can you hear me?"

"I read you, Mal."


	8. Chapter 7

**SHADOW DIMENSION**

** 0 HOUR **

He remained crouched for a moment, disoriented by the psychedelic colors and lights that had swirled around him. His mind screamed for action- _move move move_ _you're in the middle of a battle here you can't afford to just stay in one placek-_

Tim forced himself to his feet and stumbled forward a few steps. The nausea overpowered his timid resolve and he fell back to his knees, vomiting the contents of his stomach. Fevered as he was, Tim noticed immediately that the ground was composed of hot ash instead of the cold tile of the museum floor.

_OK Tim. You're OK._ _You can get over this._ The nausea passed, slowly, and he got back to his feet. Leaning against a nearby cliff for support, Tim surveyed the surrounding landscape.

He stood on a plateau of some kind, and around him the edges dropped away into nothing, the bottom concealed by wispy dark clouds. On the plateau, ash and smoke stretched before him as far as the eye could see. Here and there, the landscape was dotted with gnarled dead trees and vines, the occasional cliff or pile of stones. The sky was a dead grey. No color flavored the land at all.

Well, this was certainly not the museum. It didn't even look like _Earth._

Eerie laughter echoed around him. And suddenly, Klarion was there. Hovering upside down in midair, he grinned at Tim. "Took you long enough."

Tim's headache worsened. He stepped back, looking behind him for support that simply wasn't there. For the first time, it hit him that he was alone in this strange shadow world, and he felt panic rising in his gut. Facing Klarion with backup from the Team was one thing. Fighting him alone on his home turf was something else entirely.

He forced his feelings down, crushed them, dismembered them, concealed them in the darkest recesses of his mind, and crouched into a defensive stance.

"What's your game?" Tim asked, extending his bo staff.

"Aw, what's wrong?" Klarion asked, twisting his face into a caricature of a childish pout. "Don't you like my shadow world? After _all_ the work I put into it to prepare it special for you?"

"I'm not impressed."

"Well, you're gonna have to be- cause you're never going to leave!"

Klarion snapped his fingers. Behind him, twisted forms began to form out of the ashes. "Have fun playing with my Shades, blunder!" The Witch-boy vanished in a column of flame.

Tim stood for a moment, stunned with a mix of fascination and disgust. The shadow-beasts lumbered toward him, their gait easy and slow. They were as dull as vinyl and black as night, with wicked claws and long, gangly legs. There were no visible features besides wicked scythes that served as claws and long horns, but Tim knew that somehow they sensed his presence and had the definite intent to kill him.

He stumbled back, shaking all over at he stared at the monster. He felt his heel go over the edge of the plateau. Panicking, he threw himself forward and rolled under the shadow beasts. Standing, he tried to ascertain a path of escape. There was a path behind the shadow beasts- if you could call it that- but it was blocked by a heavy iron gate.

_Get a grip of yourself, Drake!_ Tim scolded himself, pulling his stave from its place in his utility belt, _You are a Bat. You are Robin. You have trained for this, and you are _not_ going to die here!_

He attacked, but his charge was broken by the swing of the beast's long claws. It was like being hit with a hot brick. One blow was enough to send him stumbling back.

The reach of the enemy's was superior to that of the stave's. To counter that, he realized he would have to get in close before attacking.

Dancing under the next swipe, he smashed the staff against the beast's body three times before it went flying away from him. And the shadow beast behind it advanced and sent Tim crashing face first into the cliff wall with a single strike. He hissed as the hot ash burned his bare skin and hurriedly wiped his face clean as best he could, grateful for the domino mask and its plexiglass lenses that had protected his eyes.

They were pinning him down, preventing his escape. Tim activated the taser function on the staff, hoping that it would at least faze them. No such luck.

Trapped against the cliff wall, he had but one option.

He took it.

Leaping up out of the reach of their claws, he grabbed his grapnel gun. Firing a line onto a higher ledge he pulled himself up.

But the creatures jumped up onto the ledge as if climbing steps. Before he could bring his stave up to defend himself, they crowded in too close for him to use it. Even though the body armor on his chest absorbed most of the damage, places with less armor such as his arms and face felt the hits. Tim jumped off the edge of the cliff, eluding their reach before they could trap him against the wall.

As expected, the shadow-beasts followed. Robin spun in midair and cracked his bo staff across the nearest beast's head, once, twice, thrice, before it crumbled into ash.

Landing in a roll, he sprang to his feet and immediately followed up by attacking the other beast. Getting in close before it could bring its claws up, he finished with a strong blow.

As it disintegrated, he saw the iron door rise up like a behemoth out of the corner of his eye.

Fresh wounds throbbing, he looked around him at the entire world created from ash, and felt his chest constrict.

Those shadow beasts could form from anywhere in this world. As many as they wanted, all at once. Klarion was toying with him, trying to break his resolve.

And he would be nearby, watching him, looking for a reaction. Fear, despair, devastation- any sign of negativity and Klarion would use it.

Tim couldn't afford that. He needed to be strong, to do honor to the aegis he carried.

Already, he could feel hot ash coating his teeth, his mouth. Coughing, he dug his rebreather from his utility belt and fitted it over his mouth.

Next step. Call Bruce.

Before he could hail the Cave, the communicator activated on its own. "Robin? Robin? Can you hear me?"

Fumbling with sudden relief, he activated the hologram. He was mildly surprised when he realized that something as simple as seeing Mal's face had such a calming effect on his jittery nerves. "I read you Mal."

"What's your status?"

"Klarion pulled me into some sort of pocket dimension. I'm OK."

"Stay in position. I need to contact Batman and the others."

"Copy." _Contact Batman? Wait… If he isn't on call…_

"Mal? How long have I been in here?"

"Don't worry about it, kid. Nightwing's going to be here in a moment and we'll work-

"Mal. How long?"

"… Ten days."

"Ten _days_?"

"You asked."

Ten minutes here. Ten days there.

This was not happening.

His parents had to have noticed when he didn't call for two Saturdays in a row. They'd want to know why.

They must have contacted his school. Found all the fake absences and emergencies he'd authorized so he could be Robin.

They'd find records of his calls to Wayne Manor.

They would ask Bruce what was going on.

And Bruce- he would have had to tell him.

They knew he was Robin. They knew Bruce Wayne was Batman.

_They knew._

Guilt slammed into him. "Mal-"

"I'll get back to you after I check with the others. Don't close the connection!" Mal's face vanished.

If Bruce even needed to be contacted- if he wasn't right there connected with the Cave- if _Nightwing _wasn't there-

They must have thought he was dead.

Ten days.

Two hundred and forty hours.

How had they taken it? How had his _parents_ taken it? If Bruce had needed to tell them he was Robin- and Robin was dead-

And Bruce- especially after Jason-

Tim leaned against the cliff wall.

What had he done?

**MOUNT JUSTICE**

** DECEMBER 17, 2015 12:04**

Blue Beetle hit the mat.

Nightwing offered his hand. "You're too nice, Jaime. You need to _destroy_ me."

**The Nightwing has sound advice. Suggested tactic: sonic cannon. Then evisceration.**

"No!"

"In this line of work, you can't afford to be nice."

"Nightwing! Nightwing!"

"What now, La'gaan?"

"We've got contact with Robin."

Every muscle in Nightwing's body tensed. "Say that again."

"He's on the console. The connection's shaky-"

Nightwing hesitated, before slowly walked toward the computer console.

"Mal? Is it true?"

In answer, Mal pulled up the feed from the shadow dimension.

Everything else melted away for Nightwing. All that mattered to him was that Robin was alive.

He crossed the remaining distance in a single bound_. _"Robin, what's your status?" Nightwing asked, shoving past Mal into the aperture of the small holographic circle, "Are you- are you alright?"

Robin turned his head slightly, in a futile attempt to hide the forming burns and bruises on his face. _"A few scratches, but I'm fine. What do I do?"_

Nightwing narrowed his eyes, fairly certain that one of Robin's eyes was blackening under the mask. "Get out of there. I mean- OK."

He was a mess. He needed to focus, to get Tim out of there. "Stay put. We need you in one place if we're going to transport you out of there. Zatanna and Fate together should be able to lock on your location. They'll be here in a few minutes. Don't do anything rash."

"_Nightwing- the mission with Klarion- did the others make it out alright? What about my parents? And Batman-"_

"Don't worry about that now, Robin. We just need to get you out of there. We're coming for you, OK? Just- wait here a minute while I get Fate and Zatanna." Nightwing stepped away from the aperture, hesitated, then stepped back. "Are- Are you sure you're alright?"

"_I'm fine, Nightwing."_

"OK. Hang tight for now, Robin. We'll keep you updated on any developments. Just stay put. Mal, Contact Fate and Zatanna. They need to get here ASAP!" Turning on his own communicator, Nightwing tried to hail Batman. No response.

He scowled. Bruce was too stubborn for anyone's good. "Any luck yet, Mal?"

"_I'm on the line, Nightwing. What's up?_"

"Robin's been pulled into some kind of shadow dimension. Can you get him out?"

"_I can try. Have him stay in one place so I can locate him."_

"Done. Just get here ASAP."

**SHADOW DIMENSION**

Klarion glared at his entertainment, which was _supposed_ to be fighting Shadow Beasts and contemplating the mysteries of its existence. Action! Adventure! Self doubt! Emotional trauma! It would be a great show!

Instead, Robin was sitting on the ground, meditating.

Boring.

He appeared before Robin and grinned. "You're boring me," he warned.

If Robin had done anything- opened one eye and glared at Klarion, said something- anything- or even attacked, that would have been something.

Instead, Robin ignored him. There was a slight twitch in his brow, but no other reaction.

Klarion narrowed his eyes. How impudent! He was a Lord of Chaos. Nobody ignored him! "You're going to regret that," he announced, snapping his fingers, "Have a nice fall!"

The ground disintegrated under Robin's feet.

He fell, firing a line to the edge of the hole.

For a moment, the line caught.

But when Robin's full weight came to bear on the line, the ground it had latched on dissolved into ash.

Klarion waved as the young vigilante plunged out of sight.


	9. Chapter 8

**MOUNT JUSTICE**

** DECEMBER 17, 12:10**

"Z! Glad you could make it. Where's Fate?"

"He had some meeting to attend. Being a Lord of Order and all, it wasn't something he could miss. Now, the signal-"

"Here. We aren't talking now, but we have a line open to Robin's communicator."

Klarion's laughter rang through the open channel. "Oh yeah?"

The signal cut off in a quick cry before going dead.

"Find him, _now!_"

Mal began working the holochannels, scowling as his attempts to locate Robin's signal ended in failure.

Zatanna closed her eyes. "Laever s'noiralK wodahs noisnemid ot em!"

A few tense moments passed- slow, agonizing. Nightwing forced himself to remain quiet to avoid disturbing Zatanna's concentration.

Her eyes opened. "I found it."

"Get him out. Get him out _now."_

"I don't know if I can."

"You can't just cast a reverse portal spell or something? This is _magic_ we're dealing with, not technology!"

"It's not that simple. By the feel of it, Klarion created the dimension he pulled Robin into. The Rules prevent me from entering any territory that Klarion made himself."

"Astral-"

"Not astrally, not physically- anything with any magical signature but his will be rejected."

"Then… is there any way you can amplify the zeta tech to penetrate Klarion's dimension without violating those rules?"

"It's complicated- so many different factors- magic and technology have never mixed well-"

"It won't work." La'gaan, who had been leaning against the wall watching the proceedings until now, joined the conversation. "Unless we can get a physical lock onto the Shadow World, which we can't because it's made entirely of magic. Robin is the only thing in that dimension that's capable of being transported, but we can't move him because there's not a zeta platform on that end. Unless Robin has a zeta platform in that utility belt of his, he's not going anywhere fast."

Nightwing clenched his fist. "Then… it would seem our best bet is to locate Klarion and force him to return Robin. Zee-"

"On it," she replied, entering a meditative trance.

Nightwing stood for a moment, staring at the blank holographic circle where Robin's head had been.

Then he turned and began barking orders. "OK, Mal, contact Batman. Tell him I'm assembling a team to join him in his hunt for Klarion. Also have a channel hailing Robin's communicator 24/7. He needs to know what we're up to. Oh, and contact the others. Troia, the Marvels, Red Arrow- we're going to need all hands on this mission if we're going against Klarion."

"I want to help."

"No, La'gaan," Nightwing replied, turning to the Atlantean, "Klarion is bad news. This is a senior members only mission. You're going to stay here."

"You _need_ me, Nightwing. Klarion's hard enough for Fate to handle. With the Doc out of the equation, Zatanna will need backup. I may not use my magic often, but I am no amateur."

"It's too dangerous, La'gaan. You're not going."

Like it or not, La'gaan knew how to take orders.

"Yes sir."

**SHADOWLANDS**

** 0.1 HOUR **

He fell about three hundred feet to a stone floor with only a thin layer of hot ash to cushion the impact. He should have been dead or a mess of shattered bones, but gravity wasn't as powerful in this dimension as it was back home. Although he could feel bruises forming underneath his armor, the fall certainly hadn't killed him.

Spitting hot ash out of his mouth, Tim sifted through the ash around him in an attempt to locate his rebreather. Separated from the sky, the light quality had severely gone down and he couldn't see what he was doing. Activating the night vision filter in his mask, he repressed a groan. Broken pieces of plastic and metal lay strewn around him, and none of them were from his rebreather.

The holocommunicator was by far the weakest part of his body armor. Even if he hadn't broken any bones, the impact had been enough to damage it. Picking up the pieces scattered on the ground, he suppressed a groan when he realized exactly how badly cracked the communicator was. Wires had been snapped, the casing was destroyed, and several of the delicate computer chips had been pulverized. He didn't have the right tools to repair it and he didn't dare try. Repairing it would take at least an hour, and if Klarion got bored…

Without the communicator, he couldn't coordinate with Nightwing. He couldn't expect any kind of back up from the others. No advice. No tactical support.

Tim was alone.

Remembering the reason for his fall, he stood and examined his surroundings. His tumble had landed him in a network of tunnels. Other than the light streaming from above, there was no source of light. He would need to rely nearly entirely on his mask's night vision and if it became completely dark, even the night vision filter would not help. The tunnels wandered into the darkness, offering little clue to differentiate which way was the best choice.

For a moment, he stood undecided, staring between the three options.

The first tunnel led up; maybe back to the light, but large boulders blocked the path. It would take hours to navigate and he quickly discounted it as an option.

It led straight forward. Nothing seemed odd about it.

The tunnel to the right went deeper into the caverns. Hair lifted on the back of his neck and he quickly stepped back.

Ducking the low ceiling, he entered the center tunnel.

**MOUNT JUSTICE**

** DECEMBER 17, 12:28**

"I wish I could go with you, Angelfish."

She smiled gently at La'gaan. "I'll see you when I get back."

"I know, but- you know. These things- just- just be careful."

M'gann smiled. The silence grew more awkward. La'gaan tried to think of something- anything- to continue the conversation when-

"La'gaan- I was wondering- Are you- free tomorrow night?"

Everything stopped for La'gaan. This couldn't be real. This _couldn't be real._

"Yes," he said, trying to be nonchalant, but he knew his enthusiasm had leaked through.

"Well- there's this restaurant. Has a nice little underwater garden- I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me."

She asked him out. _She asked him out. _M'gann, smart, talented, sweet, beautiful, compassionate, strong M'gann had asked _him_ out. "Oh my- Neptune's Beard, yes! Yes yes!" He quickly composed himself from his outburst. "Only if I pay the bill. My treat, Ok Angelfish?"

Her smile was like the glow of an_ edan_ flower. "Oh, La'gaan, that's sweet, but you don't hav-"

"I want to." He took her hand. "Please."

"Well, if it makes you happy-"

"Anything that makes you happy, Angelfish."

She leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. La'gaan stiffened, completely taken aback, and unsure of how to react. He had never been kissed before, had never really expected to be kissed.

M'gann broke the kiss and pulled him into a hug. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll wait for you," he promised. With a last wave, she flew towards the bioship.

Neptune's Beard. Tomorrow night. Could he even make it out? What was he thinking? It's not like he could appear in public like this! (Like himself.)

This didn't seem right. Why would someone as smart and talented and perfect as M'gann want to be with him? And on a _public date_ no less?

Something didn't add up.

And then his mind turned on him.

What if she only felt sorry for him? What if she didn't really love him?

What if she was still in love with Conner, who- face it, La'gaan- was both related to Superman and a much better boyfriend?

_Please, Angelfish, not that. I don't need you to love me to be happy. I'm used to that. But please- don't lie to me. Anything but that._

He felt a sudden need to speak with someone. But Mal and Nightwing were busy, his Angelfish didn't need to be burdened with his issues, Aquaman was busy with the baby, and Kaldur was-

No. At times like this, there was only one person he could talk to.

**SHADOWLANDS**

** HOUR 0.5**

The path ended in a dead end. Fighting shades that he encountered along the way didn't take up too much of his time. A well-placed explosive shuriken generally took them out with little trouble, but he only had so many of those and he couldn't afford to waste them. Operating by touch in the darkness of the caverns, it took him a while to ascertain that the tunnel had indeed closed off. Once he was certain this path would lead him nowhere, he followed the trail back to the clearing. After a little deliberation, he chose the tunnel on the left.

He wasn't sure how long he traveled along the passage way. Unlike the center path, which had been relatively straight, this tunnel twisted and turned like a rollercoaster and the ceiling was higher than that of the center tunnel, but fallen stones heavily clogged the path. Squeezing past them was difficult and occasionally painful.

Time passed. His stomach growled- it had been at least eight hours since he'd eaten, especially when his physical activity was factored in. It was too dark to try and eat it right there- something may attack, or he may drop it. Better to wait until he was in a better position.

Water. He'd need water too even if he wasn't thirsty yet. That was going to be a serious concern.

His thoughts were broken by a faint glow at the end of the tunnel. Hope rose in his chest and he pushed forward with renewed energy.

Finally, he stumbled into a clearing. Standing to his full height, he looked around the chamber- and recognized it. He could see parts of his holocommunicator scattered on the ground, the break in the ceiling where he'd fallen through-

He had spent hours navigating a loop.


	10. Chapter 9

**SHADOW DIMENSION**

** HOUR 3.25**

He had no choice but to take the right-hand tunnel. He paused for fifteen seconds to devour a ration bar, which featured the unwelcome side effect of making him thirstier.

It became apparent that the right side was the correct choice within a few short minutes. This tunnel was full of wide-open spaces and there were more shades to fight past. The ground had several wide chasms he had to leap across, tall cliffs that needed scaling. As time passed, Tim tried with increasingly futile efforts to conserve the water in his canteen. His constant athletic activity and the elevated temperature of the Shadow World made this an impossible task.

He was barely strong enough to leap the abysses, barely fast enough to dodge attacks. More often than not, he had to rely on his grapnel gun or some trick in his utility belt to save him from a missed ledge or push back some shades that were getting to close for comfort. It was a painful reminder of everything Tim wasn't. Jason and Dick were both very athletically proficient and would have had no trouble navigating this shadow world. While Tim was by no means a couch potato, he would never be as good as Dick and Jason was a born fighter.

If it had been Jason in the museum, he would have thrashed Klarion until the Chaos Lord released him from the Shadow World. Dick wouldn't have been hit by the transporter spell in the first place.

And then there was Tim. A gangly, inexperienced sidekick completely at the Chaos Lord's mercy.

It made him wonder why Klarion had chosen him to place in the Shadow World. Any other member of the Team would have been more entertaining. Why pick him?

The others. Were they alright? What had happened at the museum? How were his parents taking his disappearance? Where was Batman? What had his parents done with the knowledge of Batman's secret identity?

That question was the most troubling. Batman's secret was deadly even to those unaffiliated with him. That knowledge was precious. His mother would certainly want to use it to her advantage. Which was good, because she wouldn't reveal it to the media. But it wasn't good, because it would taint Batman's integrity. If the Bat was beholden to any master, the Cause would be damaged. Batman would be damaged.

He loved his mother, but he couldn't allow her to do that to Batman. He was an ideal, a symbol. The symbol needed freedom to work. Tarnish that freedom even a little bit, and everything Batman stood for would mean nothing.

Tim couldn't let his mother add Batman to her list of assets. _Robin_ couldn't let her do it.

He'd make a deal with her, then. If she swore not to hinder the activities of Batman and his allies and promised never to reveal their identity to anyone, then Tim would give up the Robin persona.

Yes. She would accept that. Mother had told him repeatedly that Drake Industries would be his empire one day, that everything she did was for his sake. If Tim was to be a good heir, than his mother needed him to focus solely on his mother's wishes- to cut away all other distractions.

It felt like a betrayal to his mother. He was going to _blackmail her_, manipulate her greatest desire so that Tim would get his way.

But it had to be done. It wasn't like he wanted a new toy or the latest iTouch. Lives were at stake. Lives of people he really cared about.

And, with a horrified feeling, he realized that he cared more about what happened to Batman than about his own mother's deepest desires.

Tim wanted to throw up, had to stop traveling for a moment. His entire body shook.

He cared more about Batman than his own mother.

What kind of monster was he? It was a sign that Tim needed to stop being Robin if he was placing it above his own family.

Tim wasn't even sure how Batman had come to take so much of his life. It had been fun (mostly) but now it was time to move on with his life. Robin was only a stage, a path he had never even intended to travel. He had taken the role out of necessity- because Batman had needed him to. It was time to let it go.

Let it go.

_Let Robin go._

Stop flying along Gotham's rooftops.

Stop saving lives.

Stop shining light in a hopeless city.

Stop flying.

Lock himself alone in to a room with nothing but oppressive silence and months-late postcards.

Close off his escape for when the echoes in the large, lonely house were too many.

Let Robin go.

The thought hurt. And, he realized with reluctance, he didn't… he didn't want to give up the role.

Granted, Tim wasn't the best Robin. And when he stopped being Robin, Bruce would have no trouble replacing him. (When one Bird falls, another rises to take his place.)

He knew it was selfish to want to keep the Robin persona. It was in everyone's best interests for him to drop the role. His parents'. Batman's, even. He took the mantle up for Batman's best interest, and it was time to drop it.

But all the reasoning in the world didn't affect his desire.

Tim didn't want to stop being Robin.

**MOUNT JUSTICE**

** DECEMBER 17, 12:42 EST**

The Memorial caverns were always cold.

La'gaan stood before the holographic image of his best friend. Jason had been in a bad mood the day the scan had been taken- "Private stuff," he'd said. The memorial served as an excellent reminder of Jason's negatives. His temper. His cynicism. His self-hatred.

It didn't show his laughter. His generosity. His compassion. His perseverance.

"Hey." He cleared his throat. "I- I know I haven't really been around much. I just- I don't know. Things have been busy. Everything- I don't know who else to talk to."

Unsurprisingly, the hologram said nothing. Just stared off into another plane. Jason had gotten that far-away look at the oddest times. La'gaan never got to ask him about them.

"I mean- I don't know what to do anymore. I joined this Team- because I wanted to be like Kaldur. Strong. Brave. Wise. Intelligent. And then I- I met you."

It was like one of those television sitcoms his angelfish loved so much- an idealistic, clumsy newbie somehow becoming best friends with the seasoned, cynical prankster. The minute La'gaan stepped into the Cave, Jason had him pegged him as partner-in-crime material. New to the surface world and surprised that anyone would be so accepting of him despite his impurities, he went along for the ride without question.

"And we had- we had a great run. Some good times."

That time they'd gone for a swim in Lex Luthor's private pool. Crushing Ocean Master's chances of getting back in good graces with the Light. Stealing the Nightwing's motorbike and crashing it in the middle of the desert. Stopping an intergalactic war. Winning the prank war with the Justice League. Getting thrown back in time to the Justice Society's Golden Age.

The warehouse.

Keeping secrets.

The fight.

The explosion.

Jason's dark eyes staring at the sky. Devoid of anything. Broken.

Dead.

Closing his eyes wouldn't chase away the memories, wouldn't make the pain go away. He resisted the temptation to squeeze his eyes shut, focused on Jason's face "I'm not good with words, Jason. You know that. But- It's just- Neptune's Beard, why- why did you you give up? You _gave up._ You're the one who told me never to quit, never to stop fighting. What happened to that? What happened to _you_?"

Jason's scowl offered no answers.

There was more he wanted to say. He could feel the pent-up emotion roiling in his chest. But the words would not come to his lips. He sucked in a pained breath and fell silent.

Footsteps sounded behind him and La'gaan turned, expecting Nightwing or maybe Batgirl.

It was Donna.

He stood for a moment in shock. Her eyes were darker and faint lines had begun to cross her face, but her eyes lacked the bleak despair that had defined her. Clad in full Amazonian armor, bearing a single white candle, Donna Troy looked whole again. Not perfect. Not unmarred. But no longer shattered. No longer entrenched deeply into darkness.

She smiled at him with just a hint of awkwardness. "La'gaan."

"Donna. I didn't expect- How did you -"

"Nightwing called and said he needed my help. That Robin needed my help." She knelt before Jason's hologram and set the candle at its feet. Murmuring a quick prayer in her native language, she stood again and turned to La'gaan. "And I needed to apologize to you."

"You don't need to apologize, Donna. You needed time to work through the grief. I- I know what it's like to lose someone. I don't hold it against you."

"That doesn't make it right. You were my friend too. Jason's death hurt you just as much as it hurt me. I was wrong to leave you alone in your grief. And for that, I am truly sorry."

He hadn't known how much he'd needed to hear that until she'd said it. La'gaan shuffled nervously. "I- I accept your apology. And I forgive you for leaving. Does this mean you're coming back to the Team, Troia?"

For a moment, she looked away. "Troia was a different identity, a stage in my life. Please call me Darkstar."

He remembered how defensive Donna had been of the title Troia. It had been an honorific bestowed on her by Wonder Woman herself. Obviously, she no longer felt worthy of the name.

"But the Team?"

"I'm not ready for that yet. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that. I still need to sort out some things- to make sense of myself. But I'm not going to isolate myself anymore."

"I've missed you, Donna," he admitted.

"I've missed you too."

"Not to interrupt this touching reunion," a deep, feminine voice interrupted, "but I seem to have lost my way to the main assembly."

"Cheshire? What- why are you-"

"I'm here to join the party," she interrupted, "I can't let you heroes have all the fun, now can I?"

"Why would you want to help Robin?"

Cheshire snorted. "It's not about helping Robin. It's about getting even with the Witch-Boy. I've been waiting for an excuse to mop the floor with him for years. Besides, Roy isn't coming. And I think that is a mistake. Friends like Nightwing are a rare treasure. And if Roy isn't going to honor the friendship he shares with Nightwing, then I will."

**NEW YORK CITY**

**DECEMBER 17, 12:30**

Klarion had concealed his trail from the museum well. Although Blood could track portals Klarion made in the main reality, when they entered other dimensions there was nothing he could do to follow it. Actually using the tunnels Klarion had created in reality wasn't an option. They had been closed tight and booby trapped.

However, Blood determined that, with enough time to formulate the proper spell, he could at least trace the tunnels and determine where they returned to the main reality- like threading seashells, he said.

Whenever possible, Batman kept an eye on his city. He followed the newspapers online and monitored computer activity in the Batcave. Dick and Barbara had tried to crack the computer code he'd written into the Computer a few more times, without success. There had been attempted breakouts from both Arkham and Blackgate, as well as a spike in gang shootings. But Batgirl and Nightwing had efficiently handled all three incidents. He made a mental note to raise their salaries.

Regrouping at Blood's base in London, they had been able to use process of elimination and a detailed history of Klarion's activities to note the places he frequented. Once Blood figured out how to track the tunnels Klarion made between dimensions, they narrowed Klarion's hideout to three places.

Neither of them brought up the possibility that Klarion's hideout may be in another dimension, though both had taken it into consideration.

Blood pulled up a miniature map of the globe he had created, with Klarion's movements marked in red. Recorded sightings were shaded in yellow.

"Klarion's movements indicate the most activity in Massachusetts, Wales, and Bialya."

"Where do you suggest we start, Blood?"

The other man smiled. "Please, call me Jason."

"I'd rather not." Blood looked too similar to his deceased protégée. He looked twice as old as Jason, was much taller and with a slimmer physique, but his facial structure, his red hair… (just a tad darker than Jason's…)

However, Bruce could never have mistaken Blood for Jason, even at a cursory glance. Jason had- a presence? A personality? - about him that Blood lacked. Jason had been gifted with just as much, if not more, leadership capability and charisma as Dick. However, his upbringing had severely crippled Jason's people skills- a handicap that he had been learning to circumvent at the time of his death. Jason commanded the room, while Blood melted into the shadows. Like Tim and Barbara, Blood disliked the spotlight and did his best work behind the curtain.

No matter how different the two Jasons were, the similarities were too many for Batman- for Bruce- to handle. It _should_ be Robin standing next to him.

And he realizes that he isn't sure whether 'Robin' means Jason or Tim. That there is no way he could have had both Jason and Tim as companions at the same time. If Jason had lived, Tim would never have approached Batman. Never became his protégée. But Jason is dead, and Tim is a good soldier. In many ways, Tim is everything Jason is not- Methodical, Cautious, Self-Deprecating against Jason's brash, reckless, over confident nature, and yet in others, they are identical- Compassion, Bravery, Loyalty.

Having one inevitably means losing the other.

He can't decide, and he doesn't want to. He forces the topic from his mind because he doesn't want to think about losing Tim the way he lost Jason, doesn't want to think about having lost Jason. He can only be grateful that no villain had ever tried to make him choose between his associates.

Oblivious to Batman's thoughts, Blood gave him a measuring look. Not judgmental or angry, simply inquisitive. "Too unprofessional?"

"No," Batman replied, "I have my own reasons."

The Magi turned back to the map. All business. Aloof. "The Lords of Chaos leech magical energy from leylines. I suggest we start at Wales."

As Blood turned away to cast a portal spell, Batman felt his communicator vibrate. He sighed and checked the display. Nightwing. Again. _That's the eighth time he's called in twenty four hours. What if something really is amiss?_

_Then he can handle it. Nightwing is fully capable of handling a crisis._

He hit the reject button and followed Jason Blood into the portal.


	11. Chapter 10

Hello! I know I'm a few days late with this update. This is my last week before going to college and thing shave been busy. From now on, to accommodate both my school schedule/work, updates will be biweekly. *That is, every other week. Thanks for your support!

* * *

**MOUNT JUSTICE**

** DECEMBER 17, 12:45**

"Come on, Robin," Nightwing muttered, as he manipulated the keyboard, "Talk to me. Mal, any luck with that signal?

"Nothing.

"Keep working on it. Update me if anything changes. Superboy! A word."

The Kryptonian looked over at his comrade. "I need you here at the cave with the freshmen."

"What?"

"I know you want to help," Nightwing continued, "But I'm not risking the Freshmen. They aren't ready for Klarion. And there may be some disaster while we're after him. I know you can lead a squad. I know I can trust you. I need you to do this, Connor."

He winced. "Yeah, I can do that," he said at last. "If it's what you need, I can do it."

"Thanks, Connor."

Miss Martian flew over to Nightwing and hovered beside him. "The bioship is prepped and ready to go. But… I don't think it's going to be enough."

"What do you mean?"

She led him to the briefing room. A wide smile crossed Nightwing's face when he saw the room was filled with heroes- even those who were no longer on the Team.

Kid Flash. Artemis. Darkstar. All three Marvels. And…

"Cheshire?" he asked in mild disbelief, scanning the crowd for Red Arrow.

M'gann didn't have to read his mind. "Roy didn't come," she said softly.

Nightwing's smile didn't falter. "I didn't expect him, KF or Darkstar to come… and Cheshire wasn't even on my radar!"

Stepping to the platform, Nightwing pulled images of the museum mission up. "As you may have heard, Robin has been missing for nearly two weeks. Klarion has taken him into a Shadow Dimension. His only hope of getting out is if we find Klarion and convince him to let Robin go. Batman began his own investigation the day after Robin vanished. Now that we have hard evidence, the Team is joining him in his search for Klarion.

"There will be four squads for this mission. Alpha Squad is led by me, Beta Squad is led by Zatanna, and Delta Squad will be led by Captain Marvel. KF, Artemis and Miss M are with me. Zatanna takes Batgirl and the Marvels. Captain, you have Darkstar, Cheshire and Bumblebee. Some Team members will remain behind to handle any crises that happen in our absence- Superboy, La'gaan, Wonder Girl, Blue Beetle and Beast Boy. Remember, Robin could contact the Cave at anytime, and we need you to keep us updated on any changes. The four squads are going to split up and search the catacombs in Wales- where Batman's signal was last detected. Understood? Suit up. We're out of here in five minutes."

**SHADOWLANDS**

** HOUR 4**

This wasn't solving anything.

He was just walking in circles. He had no plan, no objective, no idea where to go.

The architecture of the Shadow World kept changing on him. Tim recognized his own footprints in the ash, but the landscape was never the same.

Klarion was_ toying_ with him, watching him like a rat in a cage. _He wants entertainment, to be amused. If I don't amuse him, he changes the rules._

_His magic has been strong enough to redirect one of Zatanna's spells before. If he can do that, then I can't count on her magically retrieving me. The zeta tubes will be useless as well- no platform. Therefore, the only way out of here is the way I came in._

_Klarion himself._

_Then how to convince him to release me? If I stay here, he'll simply throw more obstacles at me until he runs out of patience kills me._

_If I want to stay alive, I need to entertain him. I need to make sure I hold his interest until I locate him and defeat him. _

_If I get even that far. _

_But even if I manage to beat him, he'll simply leave me behind. I'm going to need a legitimate reason for him to let me go. _

_If I am here, I must have something he wants. _

_I can trade that for what I want._

_But how to make sure he doesn't renege?_

_A challenge._

_Wait. That may work._

_No, no, bad idea. No. There's no way you can beat him! _

_What choice do I have? Die fighting or die of starvation?_

_You can't beat him!_

_Maybe I can't. But I can try. Bruce accepted you. He let me into a circle that very few even know exist. Batman trusts me. He's trained me, taught me everything I know. I can do this. Or die trying._

_ Besides. I don't have any other choice._

Robin twirled his staff and extended it. "I challenge you, Witch-boy," Robin shouted, his voice ringing off the rocky spires.

_ "_A challenge, huh?" Klarion asked as he materialized out of nothing, "Finally, things are getting interesting! You don't even have superpowers! Do you really think you're a match for me, Boy Blunder? _Replacement?_"

"Why don't we find out?"

Klarion laughed. "Please_._ I don't waste my valuable time fighting children. But…" Klarion's look turned chill. "If you manage to survive my pets and locate my abode… Then I'll take you up on that challenge of yours. Name your terms!"

Tim's gaze didn't waver, though on the inside he quivered with fear. "The challenge is a duel. If I win, you must return me to Gotham City, alive and unaltered by any magic."

"But what do I get _when_ I win?" Klarion asked, stroking Teekl.

"That depends on what you want."

Klarion's eyes shifted into what Nightwing called Demon Mode. "I think you'll do nicely as a host body." Klarion rubbed his hands together. "Yes, if I win, you become my new host body. I've had the same old, same old form for hundreds of years and I'm ready for a change of scene!"

Tim knew by the hungry look in the Witch-boy's eyes that Klarion could see the terror engrained into his body, that Tim wanted to run away screaming and yammering like a kicked puppy.

But he killed the fear, tore it apart, hid the body in the depths of his spine. Robin looked the Witchboy in the eye, and extended his hand with only the barest hint of hesitation.

"Done."

Klarion grabbed Robin's hand and shook it- a single, sharp . "Easiest bet I ever made!"

A trail of white orbs sprouted from the ground and began leading off into the distance. "Follow the orbs- if you can- and they'll lead you to the heart of the Shadowlands. Just don't die easy, OK? I'd hate to lose my fun in only a few minutes!"

The Witch-boy crooked his finger and Robin's staff tore from his hands and flew into Klarion's grasp. With another snap of the finger, Robin's utility belt disintegrated into ash.

"That's not in the deal!" Robin snapped, grabbing at his staff.

Klarion laughed and the bright light that had brought Tim to this hellish dimension engulfed the staff. "Aww, poor baby wanna pacifier- But seriously, those gadgets of yours give you an unfair advantage. I mean, the freeze pellets- the taser- and those batarangs!- nah, I'm just evening the odds a little." The Witch-boy snapped his fingers, and shades began to form from the ash behind Tim.

The emotion he'd been shoving deep down within him finally broke free. With a shout of rage and despair, Robin leapt at the Witch-Boy. "Give it _back!_"

Klarion dodged and opened a portal. "Have fun!" he cheered, ducking into the portal.

The portal winked out of existence. The shades advanced.

Robin backed away, trying to think of something- anything.

No weapons.

No way out.

No choice.

He turned and ran, fully aware that with every step he made, it was harder and harder for the others to locate him.


End file.
